


Signed, Sealed, Delivered

by GoodIdeaAtTheTime



Series: Put It On The Calendar [2]
Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Except I am also very not sorry, Frozen Teardrop can do one, M/M, Post EW, Valentine's hijinks, this is really dumb i'm sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-09-22 23:47:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9630287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoodIdeaAtTheTime/pseuds/GoodIdeaAtTheTime
Summary: Sequel to 'Since We've No Place To Go'. Wufei gets an anonymous Valentine's card. The others are Very Concerned.





	

“Come on, I think it’d be really funny.”

“That’s because your sense of humour is underdeveloped, and puerile.”

“Your face is underdeveloped and puerile.”

“Thank you for proving my point.”

“It’ll be way more fun than just _tellin’_ them, and since we’ve gotta let them know at some point…”

“I see precisely no reason at all why we have to do that.”

“That’s what friends _do_. They tell each other when they’re in relationships, so they can be happy for each other.”

“Seems unnecessary. I don’t need their input to be happy with you.”

“...Okay, look, I know that counts as sweet-talkin’ for you, but you’re not gonna distract me like that.”

“How about like this?”

“Mmmaybe. It’ll be fun, I promise, and I’ll make it worth your while…”

“How?”

“I’ll go with you to that stupid play.”

“It’s _Shakespeare_.”

“Sorry. I’ll go with you to that _old_ and stupid play.”

“...Fine. You do what you need to do, and I will play along as long as things remain reasonable. If things get out of hand, I’ll put an end to it. And you’ll still come to the play with me.”

“Deal.”

“Can we can back to what we were doing now?”

“Ooh yesss…”

 

*

 

**Monday - Valentine's Day minus one**

 

Duo was up to something, that much Quatre was sure of. He could sense the mischief coming off the braided man like a beacon, and he had been staring at Wufei all evening, whilst the Chinese man had talked with Trowa and Heero over dinner. So when Duo headed to the bar for another drink, Quatre joined him.

“What are you planning?” he asked quietly, as the bartender turned to get their drinks. Duo shot him a look of pantomime innocence.

“Why _Quatre_ ,” he gasped, “I don't know what you could possibly mean.”

Quatre just levelled him with a flat look, until he chuckled. Taking his beer, he turned to lean against the bar and looked towards their friends again, having a long mouthful before he spoke.

“I'm sending Wufei a Valentine's card. Anonymously, of course.”

“ _Why_?” Quatre demanded.

“Look at the poor guy,” Duo said, nodding towards him. “He could use a bit of love. He’s always worked too hard, and missed the important things in life. Thinking he's got an admirer'll do him the world of good.”

Wufei had been acting a little strangely since Christmas. Whilst his attitudes and manners had been the same, he had started disappearing. Sometimes for a handful of hours, sometimes for whole nights. He didn't answer his phone, no-one seemed to know where he was, and he refused to tell them where he had been once he reappeared. Strictly speaking, it wasn't their business, but it was out of character, and they were worried.

“I think it's cruel,” the blonde told him, sternly. “It's not fair to tease him like that.”

“Yeah?” Duo raised an eyebrow at him. “You don't think it’ll be the ego boost he needs? Make him realise what he's missing, and get him out of the office to find his admirer, start livin’ a proper life?”

“But there isn't an admirer,” Quatre said.

Duo shrugged a shoulder, unconcerned.

“Might be one somewhere,” he replied blithely, and headed back to join the others.

 

*

 

**Tuesday - Valentine's Day**

 

Trowa came into their shared office second that morning, and found Wufei staring at something on his desk with a very odd expression on his face.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

“What?” Wufei replied vaguely. “Oh, yes. I just… received something odd in the internal mail.” He sounded a little baffled.

“What did you get?”

“A Valentine's card.”

“Who got a Valentine's card?” Heero asked, attempting to get into the office. “Stop standing in the doorway, Trowa, you're making the place look untidy.”

“Wufei got a Valentine's card,” Trowa told him, stepping aside.

“What?”

Wufei showed them the card silently. It was white, but in green print it said “Congratulations! Now you have at least one Valentine's Card!” Beneath that, in smaller text, it said “(I hope you don't get any more)”. It was fairly tasteful otherwise. The card stock was nice, and there were no hearts or flowers anywhere to be seen. If it hadn't had the word 'Valentine’ printed on it, it wouldn't have been indentified as a Valentine's card at all. The other two stared at it with similar baffled expressions.

“Who’s it from?”

“It's not signed,” Wufei said, looking inside it again and pulling the same odd expression he’d been wearing when Trowa had arrived.

“...Are you sure it's for you?” Heero asked, finally. “Maybe it’s misdirected.”

In response, Wufei held out the envelope. Again it was plain white, and on the front was a printed label, clearly showing Wufei's name in block capitals, and beneath that his office number and building.

“Huh.” Heero took his jacket off and hung it up, clearly mulling this over. “Who’d want to send _you_ a Valentine's card?”

“Charming,” Wufei said dryly, and Heero shot him an exasperated glance.

“You know what I mean.”

“Can you recognise the handwriting?”

Wufei passed the card to Trowa, and Heero peered around him to look inside. Instead of writing, words and letters had been cut from a number of different magazines and newspapers, stuck down to make the message.

 

_Wufei -_

_I think you're amazing, and super hot. Let's meet for drinks, 5:30pm, Friday, at the Marquis. I can show you in person how I feel._

 

“What the fuck,” Heero said.

“You’d think it would have been easier to just print it out like they did with the label,” Trowa observed.

“Yes,” Wufei agreed, taking the card back. He sounded vaguely amused. “You would have thought that would be more sensible.”

“Obviously you aren't going to go.” Heero said, shaking his head and moving to his own desk to turn his computer on.

“Why not?” Wufei asked, looking mildly surprised. “It’s only round the corner. Then I’ll find out who sent it.”

Trowa stared at him incredulously. Wufei didn't seem to notice, walking back around his desk and setting the card down on top of his computer. Helplessly, Trowa glanced at Heero for support, but the other man just shrugged, clearly as bemused as he was.

“This was obviously sent by a weirdo,” Trowa argued.

“Why, because they asked me on a date?”

“Because they asked you on a date with what looks like a ransom note!” The taller man put both of his hands on the top of his head, as if his skull needed the additional support to contain his brain while he tried to wrap it around this whole demented situation. “The next one they send will have one of your fingers taped to it!”

The Chinese man snorted derisively, and settled into his chair.

“You're being ridiculous. It was sent via the _internal_ mail, so it's likely to be another member of Preventers staff. They're asking to meet me at the pub that all the Preventers go to, immediately after work on Friday, when most of the staff are there. I think the odds of it being a psychopath are rather slim, considering? And if they do turn out to want to murder me, we’ll be quite literally surrounded by Preventers who can intervene. Presuming,” he added sardonically, “that I have some kind of stroke immediately on arrival, and am unable to defend myself.”

Trowa opened his mouth to argue, then shut it abruptly, knowing it was pointless. He turned to the fourth, empty desk in the room, and wished Duo wasn't in training sessions all week.

In return for being stranded at Christmas, the American had finally got Une to let him take another advanced driving course. It was mandatory to undertake at least one Professional Development course a year, however Duo had been banned from taking any on driving or piloting due to complaints from instructors that he kept showing them up. He had, naturally been quite disgruntled, and had been reduced to choosing training based on the quality of refreshments provided. Trowa hadn't heard the entire negotiation this time, but he had caught some key words as he’d passed down the corridor. 'Testicular frostbite’ had been said rather emphatically, and he was certain he’d heard the phrase 'Ice Queen’s anal cavity’, and although he wasn't entirely sure on context he could see why Une had agreed to the compensation, just to make Duo go away.

The timing was extremely poor though. For some unfathomable reason, Duo could talk Wufei into, or out of, just about anything. Trowa had some vague suspicions on the subject, but right now he just wanted to exploit that weakness to talk some sense into the Chinese man.

 

*

 

**Wednesday - Valentine's Day plus one**

 

Quatre drummed his fingers impatiently on his desk as he waited for the call to connect. The conversation he’d had with Trowa earlier had been stewing in the back of his mind all afternoon, but he had been tied up with meetings until now.

Where the hell was Duo? First Wufei hadn't answered, and now -

“Yello? Oh, hey Quat. S’up?”

Duo appeared on screen, hair all mussed and wearing a rumpled, half-buttoned shirt. He seemed a little less than happy to see Quatre.

“What took you so long? I’ve been calling for ages.”

“I was in bed.”

“It's _six thirty.”_

“Yeah, and?”

Taking a deep breath, the blonde rubbed his hand over his mouth and pulled his thoughts together. He didn't need to get distracted.

“Have you seen Wufei?” He asked. “I’ve been trying to get hold of him, and he’s disappeared again.”

“I’ve been doing training all day,” Duo said patiently, “and I came straight home. What did you want him for?”

“I wanted to talk to him about your stupid prank,” Quatre snapped. “Why would you ask him to meet you? Were you just going to get him there and make him wait? That's low, Duo. It's unfair and cruel.”

“Woah there!” Duo held up his hands in surrender, swaying slightly back from his camera, and Quatre realised he had leaned forwards as he had spoken.

He couldn't help it - he was angry. He had never been so mad at Duo. This kind of teasing seemed spiteful and mean-spirited, particularly given the twinges of feelings he had picked up from Wufei in recent months. He tried not to read his friends - partly for privacy purposes, and partly because the four of them were such a cacophony of emotions letting too much in meant he had to go sit quietly in a dark room for a bit. But these feelings had caught him by surprise, the source of them so unexpected, and the trigger even more so. It wasn't his place to reveal it to Duo, but he couldn't stand by and watch what was already a tasteless prank become outright hurtful.

“I wasn't gonna just leave him waitin’,” Duo said. “Whaddya take me for? I was gonna meet him, buy him a drink, and we’d have a laugh about it.”

“I don't think he’ll be laughing, Duo,” Quatre said. “Trowa said he was asking if he should bring something, because he's never been on a date before.”

“Aw, what a gent.” Duo grinned. “I knew I picked the right guy to be my Valentine. Maybe I’ll put out on the first date after all.”

“He thinks it's an actual date!” The very fact of that alone was utterly bananas, no matter which way he looked at it. Wufei had always seemed so steadfastly reasonable, but then from what Trowa had said, he was managing to make pretty reasonable arguments for going through with it. “He’s going to be really hurt by this. He’ll think you're making fun of him.”

“I think you're underestimating Wu-boy’s sense of humour.”

“I think you're overestimating yours!”

The braided man opened his mouth to respond, and then paused. He let out a huff of laughter, and smiled the oddest little smile, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth and looking at something to the side of him. He raised his eyebrows, then shook his head slightly, turning back to face the screen. Rubbing the back of his head, his collar fell open as he lifted his arm, and Quatre could see a dark red mark where his neck met his shoulder. Obviously he’d been throwing the cars around at his training. If the harness had bruised Duo, he felt sorry for the poor instructor.

“Overestimating it, huh? Would you say it's underdeveloped? And puerile?”

Quatre paused, surprised.

“I, er,” he hesitated. “Well, those aren't the words I would have chosen, but yes, I suppose they're accurate.”

“Alright then, let's put your money where your mouth is.” Duo leaned forward, and there was a devilish glint in his eye, mischief in his toothy grin. “You come along Friday, so you can watch,” he purred. “I think Wufei'll see me, we’ll have a drink and a laugh, and it’ll all turn out fine. If I’m right, you buy me an’ Wufei dinner. At Vin Cinq.”

“I’ll gladly buy you dinner if I’m wrong,” Quatre told him haughtily. “I hope I'm wrong, but I don't think I will be. And I don't think betting on it is any better than the prank itself.”

“What's wrong? I thought you were a Winner. Too chicken?”

Despite his better judgement, Quatre bristled. None of the pilots liked to be called cowards, although it usually bothered him less than the others. But there was something here, something in Duo's cavalier attitude to his friend’s potential hurt feelings, in his casual arrogance that it would turn out how he planned, that was rubbing Quatre entirely the wrong way.

“Fine,” he said. “But if I’m right, you will _grovel_ to Wufei to make it up to him. And,” he added, almost as an afterthought, “you’ll delete the karaoke video. I know you still have it.”

Duo tilted back his head and let out a bark of laughter.

“Deal. It's a bet. But that means you can't tell Heero or Trowa about what's happening! No game-fixing.”

Shit. He hadn't thought of that.

“Alright,” Quatre muttered. “But Duo, I don't think I’m going to lose.”

“Oh, well,” Duo said, glancing to the side of the screen again with a wicked grin, “I’d better go practice my grovelling then. Y'know, just in case. See you on Friday.”

The call cut off, and Quatre sat back in his chair. He was annoyed that Duo had managed to manipulate him into not telling, but he had the distinct feeling there was something more to it than that. Something Duo wasn't telling him.

Who knew, he reflected, suddenly drained. Maybe Duo had found an admirer for Wufei, and was going to bring them along.

Stranger things had happened.

 

*

 

**Thursday - Valentine's Day plus two**

 

Flicking through the pile of letters which had arrived, Trowa sighed when a suspiciously thick envelope appeared in the shuffle, addressed to Wufei.

“Here,” he said dryly, tossing the envelope onto the other man’s desk, “maybe your secret admirer is sending you photographs of your house.”

Heero didn't look up from his work, but he snorted a laugh. Wufei just raised an eyebrow and neatly opened the white envelope. He peered inside, and, to Trowa's amazement, smiled broadly, looking pleased and slightly excited.

“What?” Trowa asked, exhausted from the whole thing. He’d had a headache threatening since Tuesday, skulking behind his eyes. Every time this Valentine's debacle came up it throbbed menacingly. Even talking to Quatre about it hadn't helped, and the blonde had just suggested letting Wufei go on the stupid date, like everyone had taken a vacation from common sense this week. “What is it?”

“Theatre tickets,” Wufei told him, airily unconcerned about Trowa's new migraine, as he tucked the contents back into the envelope, then slid it into the top drawer of his desk. “For Friday.”

Behind him, Trowa heard Heero's typing falter for just a second, and he could feel the pressure in his head building.

“...You bought theatre tickets?” he asked weakly.

“Well, you said flowers might not be appropriate, and this was on…”

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. They just stared at each other in silence, and Trowa wondered if it was scientifically possible to predict when a person could develop a stress-based twitch. Finally, he turned and looked beseechingly at Duo's empty desk. Duo would never let Wufei do something so _stupid_ , if only he were there -

“S’up ma bitches,” Duo called, kicking the door open. “I come bearing caffeine!”

The braided man bumped the door shut behind him and started handing out the coffees he had brought with him. Trowa was torn between thinking that wishes did come true, and wondering why it required something so monumentally moronic to get the Universe to intervene.

“I thought the training lasted until Friday,” he said, taking the cardboard cup Duo thrust at him automatically.

“Willis called in sick today, for some reason,” the American said cheerfully, turning to sit on his desk and grin at them. “They've called in Sampson off leave, but he can't get in until after lunch. Catch me up, guys, what hot goss did I miss?”

“Wufei got a Valentine's card,” Heero told him, carefully pulling the plastic lid off his cup, and then pouring the contents into his own travel mug, as he always did. “From what seems to be a stalker. And he’s decided to go meet them.”

“Wu _fei_!” Duo gasped, grinning hugely. “You holdin’ out on me? Breakin’ hearts in the office?”

“He’s bought theatre tickets,” Trowa said. “He doesn't know who it is, but he's going to take them to the theatre.”

The braided man frowned.

“What? Lemme see that.” Duo hopped off his desk and snatched the envelope off Wufei, juggling his mug to peer at the tickets inside. “Aw, Chang, that's really dumb.”

The relief of hearing Duo back him up was like a fresh, cool breeze, and Trowa could feel the knot of tension on the centre of his forehead start to dissipate.

“That's what _I_ said.”

“Should'a listened to Trowa,” Duo told Wufei sternly. “No-one's gonna want to see Shakespeare on a first date.”

“I - no, that's not -”

“ _I’d_ like to see Shakespeare on a first date,” Wufei pointed out, ignoring Trowa’s weak protests and smirking up at Duo.

“Yeah, but what d’you know about dating? Y’gotta know your market, dude.”

“And how am I supposed to do that,” Wufei asked, leaning back in his chair and raising an eyebrow, “when the card is anonymous?”

“Work on averages,” Duo said, wagging a finger at him and taking a deep mouthful of his coffee before continuing. “Most people don't like Shakespeare.”

Behind him, Trowa wondered when the entire world had descended into madness, and why he hadn't noticed before now. Heero was resolutely attempting to ignore the whole thing in the hopes that it would go away.

“I think this is a good choice,” Wufei said. “It's a good play, and I’d go so far as to say that even _you_ would enjoy it, Maxwell.”

“You would, would you?” Duo tossed the envelope back onto Wufei's desk, and placed his now free hand on the table top to lean down, grinning like a shark.

“I'm confident of it.”

“You better be planning a fancy dinner, just in case the play bombs.”

“The table’s booked for 6:30.” Wufei slid the tickets back into his drawer. “And I know you like Vin Cinq, so I can't be criticized there.”

“What?!” Trowa burst out. “Wufei, you can't - that place costs a _fortune_!”

“But it's just across from the theatre,” he said mildly. “Anywhere else, we’d risk having to rush.”

“...I’m going to go and find some sane people,” Trowa declared, finally, dropping the remaining letters on Heero's desk to be his problem. “And some aspirin.”

 

*

 

**Friday - Valentine's Day plus three, the Date**

 

“You know he’s just doing it to wind you up now.”

“Well it’s working,” Trowa snapped, packing up his desk with more irritation than the task usually generated.

“If you didn’t keep mentioning it, he’d have given it up already,” Heero told him mildly, putting away his laptop and zipping up the bag, unruffled by the whole series of events. Largely because he had ignored it all week, leaving Trowa to try and talk sense into their friend by himself.

“I wasn’t the one who said ‘obviously you won’t go’,” Trowa said acidly, slamming his drawers shut, and getting annoyed that it didn’t make him feel better in the slightest. The only thing it achieved was knocking his pen pot over, and he then had to tidy that up as well.

“It was obvious as far as I was concerned.” Heero turned and hooked the strap of his laptop case over his shoulder. “Evidently I miscalculated.”

“ _Evidently_.”

The door to the office opened and Wufei walked in, sliding his folded uniform into a bag which he set on his desk for Monday. Apparently he had brought a change of clothes with him, and had slipped out to get dressed when the other two had been elsewhere. The black dress slacks, which neither Heero or Trowa had been aware he owned, fit him perfectly, and his shirt – another new wardrobe addition, apparently - was a deep, rich purple, the collar visible under his black, v-neck sweater.

“Jesus,” Trowa muttered, and closed his eyes briefly, trying to gather his strength.

“What?” Wufei asked, all innocence, twisting to peer down at himself. “Have I got something on me?”

“Yes,” Trowa told him, folding his arms and looking grouchy. “You’ve got a lot of Stupid on you, and it doesn’t seem to be coming off when you shower.”

“Oh, is that all? I was worried I’d brushed against a wall and got paint on myself.” The Chinese man retrieved the theatre tickets from his desk drawer and shrugged into his coat, tucking the envelope into the inside pocket. “What do you think? Do I look alright for a date?”

“Yes,” Heero said, cutting off Trowa’s rude response. “You look very nice.”

Wufei nodded, looking pleased. He stood for a moment, patting his pockets to ensure he had everything, before wrapping his scarf around his neck and buttoning up his coat.

“See you both on Monday,” he said cheerfully, and disappeared through the door whilst tugging on his gloves.

Trowa stood, glowering after him for a long moment, before zipping up his own jacket and grabbing Heero’s sleeve, dragging him out of the office.

“Come on,” he ordered. “Something stinks about this. We’re going to find out what.”

“I don’t want to,” Heero protested, scrambling to knock the office light off as he passed, and pull the door closed behind him, pulled off-balance by the taller man.

“Tough.”

 

 

If Wufei noticed the pair of them trailing down the street behind him – and he almost certainly did – he didn’t show it. The Marquis was a ten minute walk from the main building, a proper old pub in a wonky old building. The floors were dark wood, and various rooms spilled off each other, with walls knocked through to create almost a warren of little clustered tables and booths. As they entered, Trowa looked to the right to find Wufei at the already-crowded bar, whilst Heero looked to the left, at the tables, and paused.

“What’s Quatre doing here?”

“What?”

Turning to follow Heero’s gaze, Trowa spotted the blonde sat in a booth with a clear view of the bar. He caught their eyes, and raised his hand in a sheepish little wave as they barged their way over, leaving a trail of dirty looks in their wake from Preventers they elbowed out of the way.

“Why are you here?” Trowa demanded. Heero nodded a greeting and slid into the booth, dumping his laptop on the seat beside him.

“You said this was where Wufei was meeting his Valentine,” Quatre said haughtily, batting Heero’s hands away from his bowl of chips. “I came to see how it was going to go. Why are _you_ here?”

“Trowa thinks something fishy’s going on,” Heero explained. “He made me come too, because he thinks it’s all my fault in the first place.”

“He’s bought _theatre tickets_ ,” Trowa said, sitting on the other side of the booth and folding his arms. “I think he’s bought new clothes. And he’s booked a table at Vin Cinq.”

“What?” Quatre asked sharply, suddenly glaring at Trowa. 

“I know, it’s _insane_ , I tried to tell him - "

“No, not that! He’s booked a table…?”

“At Vin Cinq, yeah.” Trowa looked at him quizzically. “Why?”

“I think we’ve been played. That rotten, sneaky, son of a-“

“You guys were the ones interested in this, and you’re going to miss it if you’re not careful,” Heero said mildly, taking advantage of Quatre’s distraction to steal a couple of chips from the bowl. He nodded towards the bar when they glanced at him. “I think Wufei’s found his date.”

Across the room, the Chinese man had turned slightly, leaning one elbow on the bar and grinning at someone who was blocked by a group of people huddled nearby. After unsuccessfully trying to crane their necks to see around them, Trowa balled up Quatre’s napkin in frustration and hurled it at the head of the nearest person. When the victim turned to glare at them, he was met with three glares, and imperious gestures to ‘shove over that way a bit would you?’ The group complied, but not without giving the three of them further stink-eyes.

After a bit of shuffling, the view cleared, to show Duo sauntering along the bar, beer in one hand, glass of wine in the other. He handed the wine to Wufei with a grin, and they clinked glasses together in a toast.

“Oh,” Trowa said darkly. “Oh that little _shit_.”

“How did he get Wufei to go along with it?” Quatre muttered. “He wouldn’t normally have time for this sort of thing, just to wind us up.”

“Huh.” Heero leaned back in his seat. “So… it was a prank then?”

“Yes.”

“And Duo got Wufei in on it to reel us in?”

“Yes.” Trowa propped his elbow on the table and rubbed his forehead.

“Huh.”

There was a long silence, and the three of them watched Duo and Wufei chatting happily at the bar. Heero snagged the last few chips out of the bowl, and made a thoughtful noise, getting suspicious glares from both Quatre and Trowa.

“What?”

“Well,” Heero said, a small smirk playing at the corners of his mouth, “I’m no expert, but if it was just a prank, why did Wufei buy the theatre tickets?”

“He likes the theatre,” Quatre said. “He goes all the time.”

“Yes. But why did he buy _two_?”

Sharing a look with his friend, Quatre opened his mouth to respond, and then shut it, frowning.

“Um…”

“ _And_ ,” Heero continued, “why is Duo dressed up too? We only needed to see Wufei to take us to the reveal.”

Duo was indeed in his own finery, of sorts. Dark grey slacks, matching grey waistcoat, a crisp white shirt, and his smartest leather jacket. He was even wearing shoes, instead of his regular boots. Those usually only got worn when he was being threatened with violence by Quatre, for formal events.

“What… what are you trying to say?” Trowa asked cautiously, frowning at the pair at the bar. Heero didn’t respond, just tilted his head towards Duo and Wufei, and smirked to himself.

They were stood quite close, heads tilted together to try and hear what the other was saying. At some point, almost without them noticing, Wufei had brought his free hand up to rest lightly on Duo’s hip. Glacially slowly, the gap closed between the pair, and Quatre let out a surprised noise as, on the far side of the room, lips met in a gentle kiss.

“… _Huh_ ,” said Trowa.

“ _Oh_ ,” said Quatre.

The kiss ended, and Duo and Wufei finished their drinks. Turning to leave, they caught sight of the trio and waved to them. Linking his fingers through Wufei’s, Duo pressed a kiss to the back of his hand, and winked at Quatre, mouthing something at him while Wufei towed him from the bar.

“What did he mean, ‘we’ll put it on your tab’?” Trowa asked, glancing at Quatre, who had slumped back in his seat and discovered that Heero had eaten all of his food.

“Nothing,” he said, shooting the Japanese man a sidelong glare. “Nothing at all.”

 

*

 

“Enjoy that?”

“It was amazing. If more people knew that Shakespeare meant wearing a poncho because of fake blood splatter, it’d be way more popular.”

“They don’t all have that…”

“Don’t talk me outta this, I’m sayin’ you were right.”

“Fair enough, I shall keep quiet. You were right too, by the way.”

“Yeah?”

“That was far more fun than just telling them.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you are curious, they went to see Titus Andronicus. It's one of Shakespeare's earlier plays and it is full on BRUTAL. By the second half it is often played for comedy, because people are just dropping dead all over the place. I saw it, and cackled. My friend saw the same production, and she fainted. There are two types of people, and I suspect that I am the bad type.
> 
> As evidenced by this fic, I suppose.


End file.
